666
by briwd
Summary: Set during Season Nine of NCIS, Gibbs and his Major Case Response Team take on perhaps their most unusual, crazy and frightening case yet: two frightening, homicidal maniacs making claims and bearing markings straight out of end-times Bible prophecy. The twist? They're for real. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Sometime during Season 9, NCIS**

The day began with the discovery of a dead petty officer near the Potomac River and the body of a male 50 yards away.

It quickly regressed when Gibbs and his team confronted a panicked, aggressive male and female nearby, preventing them from recovering the bodies.

Ziva had to kick the male in the head - twice; McGee had to shoot the female in the arm; and Ducky and Palmer had to administer sedatives to both to resolve the situation.

The sedatives wore off when the male and female arrived at NCIS, and it took a dozen agents to secure them. The female was in the morgue under sedation - McGee's shot was at best a minor flesh wound - and she was strapped to a slab, next to the bodies.

The living male was in interrogation, tied securely, every so often struggling against his bonds. Director Leon Vance made the call on that, not knowing what else to do with him.

As Ducky and Palmer worked on the bodies in the morgue, Gibbs made his way to forensics to check in with specialist Abby Sciuto, who was examining a curious marking cut out of the dead male's forehead.

When Gibbs walked in, holding Abby's customary 64-ounce Caf!-Pow drink, he saw a woman scared unlike he had ever seen her before.

"Abs?"

Gibbs's famous 'gut' was screaming at him that something was way, way off and that Abby may not be overreacting to any degree.

"Abs? You _okay_?", Gibbs shouted, in order to be heard over the loud music playing in the room.

"_No_!" she shouted, turning. "Gibbs...Gibbs I'm _scared_."

Gibbs walked over to Abby's stereo, found the volume control and turned it all the way down, then handed Abby her Caf!-Pow.

"At _what_?" he asked Abby, handing her the Caf!-Pow. Abby promptly put it aside, and focused her attention back on a screen with some strange computer coding. "What are you scared of?"

"I...I found a _chip_, imbedded in the flesh sample Jimmy brought down," Abby said quietly, with some fear in her voice. "It's not in his skin. It's-part of his flesh-"

"_Part_ of his _flesh_?"

"Part of his _flesh_," Abby repeated.

"A computer chip?"

"I've never seen anything _like_ it, and McGee says he hasn't either," Abby continued. "A chip should be, well, artificially produced - silicon, for example. If you imbed it in someone's skin, their muscles, it should still maintain its original properties. But _this_" - she showed him the sample, with the 'chip' in it - "is _organic_."

"That's part of his forehead," Gibbs said.

"We carved it _out_ of his forehead - or, Ducky and Jimmy did," Abby told Gibbs. "Look at the chip - it looks like a chip, acts like a chip, but it's flesh."

Gibbs looked the sample over a few times, looking first at the chip and then at the marking surrounding it.

"This marking," Gibbs said.

"-is the _creepiest_ thing I've ever seen," Abby replied. "And it's not just because of how it looks. It's because the chip is a part of it and because of what's on the chip."

"What's on the chip, Abs?" Gibbs asked.

Coding appeared on the monitor.

"_This_," she said. "I had McGee run it through and I'm waiting to hear back from him. But what I saw...so far..._scares_ me."

"_What_ did you find, Abs?"

"Biographical information - like blood type, genetic information, eye color...date of birth, hometown, which is weird: Buffalo, North America?...financial information...and references to taking the 'mark of loyalty' 11 months before."

"Mark of loyalty?"

"_Mark of loyalty_," she said. "It's almost like what they call the 'mark of the beast'."

"_Who_, Abs?"

"Pastors, preachers, evangelicals...some of my evangelical friends hear it all the time in church; I'm Catholic so I don't hear about it a lot, though some guy in New York state who's Catholic talks about it like one of those TV preachers. Stuff that's yet to come, yet this is just like one of those-"

"Abs," Gibbs said calmly and firmly, handing her the Caf!-Pow. "This _chip_. This _mark_. You keep looking at that monitor. The two related?"

"That's the coding from the...organic chip imbedded in the mark," Abby replied. "The entire coding is arranged in sixes. Triple sixes. Arranged in triple sixes."

"Triple sixes, Abs?"

"666, Gibbs. Like the mark of the beast."

Gibbs didn't know quite what to make of this; he wasn't exactly a religious man, and certainly not of the evangelical variety.

He knew people, inside and outside NCIS, who believed that the Bible predicted events yet to come. He was somewhat familiar with the evangelical prophetical interpretations of the Book of Revelation, including the so-called Mark of the Beast.

Gibbs also knew that many Christians, even Protestants, saw Revelation as apocryphal, as some sort of reference to first-century Rome and the fledgling Christian church.

There certainly wasn't an Antichrist running the world at present, and everyone was paying for things with cash and credit cards. He hadn't been ordered to take a mark of loyalty under penalty of death.

So what in hell _was_ that thing, that had Abby so spooked?

"Abs," Gibbs said softly, "where's McGee?"

"Upstairs, as far as I know." Abby's attention was fixed on that monitor, showing coding in a series of triple sixes.

Gibbs called up McGee on the smaller, nearby monitor.

"McGee?"

"Yes boss." McGee said, standing in front of the big monitor in the team's third floor bullpen

"What have you found from that chip?"

"Biographical information on the person - the dead male - and lots of references to a one world order, the potentate, all encoded in a series of triple sixes."

"Where is he _from_?"

"Place of birth states Buffalo, and this is curious - 'former' state of New York, 'currently' New York Province, North American Hegemony."

"Financials?"

"Yes, but I can't verify them with any known financial institutions."

"Which financial institutions are listed, McGee?"

"Even more curious," he said. "One World Earth Bank, True Lord Financial. Loyalty cards, the kind you'd get at a supermarket, only this one is called Triple Six. And this: payments to Morningstar Cable, and Lucifer Motor Company Financial-"

"McGee," Gibbs said. "You're _not_ making that up."

"Honest to _God_, boss," McGee replied, as Tony and Ziva looked on.

"What about fingerprints, DNA, date of birth?"

"Still trying to verify. Date of birth listed two ways: 12-10-1977, and 344-negative 31. He's not in any known databases."

"McGee, where's Ziva and Tony?" Gibbs asked.

"Right here," he said; moments later both agents appeared, opposite McGee.

"Tony, Ziva, information on the living woman and man," Gibbs ordered.

"Boss, nothing on Crazy Jane and Mad Max," Tony stated.

"A thorough search of all known databases show no trace of identification in regards to fingerprints," Ziva added.

"Tony. Get Dorneget and a couple of other agents not working a case, arm yourselves and get down to the morgue now," Gibbs ordered. "When that woman comes out of sedation, I don't want Ducky and Palmer by themselves. If she does anything hostile shoot on sight."

"Boss? _Shoot_?" Tony asked.

"My orders," Gibbs replied. "Ziva-"

"Ziva I want up in interrogation with the male."

Vance walked into Forensics with two other agents beside him.

"Gibbs, I anticipated you would have one of your agents down here with Ms. Sciuto," Vance said. "Agents Foreman and Collins will stay here with Abby. Ziva and four others will be in the room while you question that man."

"Reading my mind, Leon?" Gibbs said.

"Suppose so," Vance replied.

"Gibbs, please..._please_ be careful," Abby pleaded. "Those people _scare_ me. More than Ari. More than that guy who stalked me years ago. More than the Port-to-Port Killer."

"Don't worry, Abs," Gibbs said. "Not planning on letting the Antichrist _kill_ anybody."

Gibbs and Vance made their way to Ducky's autopsy room, where they met DiNozzo and four other agents, each fully armed, surrounding the slab the woman lay on.

"How sedated _is_ she?" Vance asked Ducky.

"Enough to put the proverbial horse to sleep," Ducky replied. "I don't want to administer any more sedative if I don't have to; it may be enough to kill her."

"If Crazy Jane wakes up we may not have a choice," Tony mused.

"What about the wound to her arm, Duck," Gibbs asked.

"Timothy's shot nearly grazed it," Ducky said. "I administered some antiseptic and placed a bandage over it. It should heal rather quickly."

"Good thing Tony thought to slug her," Jimmy Palmer said, as he worked on the dead male whose mark was being examined by Abby and McGee.

"Dr. Mallard, put the bodies in the freezer, and you - and you, Mr. Palmer - _both_ of you get up to the bullpen," Vance told Ducky and Palmer. "DiNozzo, if she makes a move that presents a threat to you or the other agents, shoot on sight."

"And keep the Director and I apprised every five minutes," Gibbs said. "We'll be in interrogation."

Ducky and Palmer joined Vance and Gibbs on the elevator, then made their way to McGee in the bullpen when it reached the third floor. Vance and Gibbs walked up the stairs to the interrogation room, where Ziva and two other agents awaited them.

In the room, 'Mad Max' was struggling mightily against his restraints, and ranting about his lord and god, demanding answers of his own.

Leon Vance stood in front of the glass partition separating him from the lunatic secured in the interrogation room, and thanked God for the agents standing guard in there.

Leon took the measure of this man, and saw someone who, the best way he could put it, was soulless.

The man's facial expressions ranged from angry to lustful, greedy to desperate; one moment Leon saw the glare of a serial killer and the next the look of a child.

Then there was the mark on his forehead. It was nothing like anything Leon had seen in his life.

And it gave him the chills.

By looking at the other agents guarding the man, Leon wasn't alone. He'd have to ask his pastor about this, although it couldn't possibly be the real thing.

Gibbs and Ziva walked in and stood next to Leon.

"Gibbs, I can take the first round of interrogating," Ziva said. "I have dealt with worse men than this before."

"That guy's different than anyone we've _met_ before, Ziva," Gibbs said.

"I don't think _anyone_ on this _earth_ has dealt with someone like _that_," Vance interjected. "I don't want _either_ of you in there by _yourselves_. I've called in Marines and I expect them to arrive at any time. Some are up here with us; four more will join our agents down stairs in the morgue. I've also instructed one of our agents to administer another dose of sedative if that woman stirs."

"I should be _down_ there, with Tony," Ziva said.

"Not by _yourself_," Gibbs replied. "And not _before_ we talk to that guy."

"Be _careful_, Gibbs," Vance warned. "I've instructed those agents to shoot on sight if he is sufficiently threatening. I'm giving you two the same order."

Gibbs and Ziva walked in, and the man's demeanor changed; he responded to Gibbs as if he sensed he was the leader, or a leader, of whatever organization occupied this building.

"You gave us _quite_ a fight," Gibbs told the man, who eyeballed he and Ziva with suspicion. "We don't normally...secure...those we interrogate. You gave us no choice."

The man's demeanor changed to sternness, him glaring at both Gibbs and Ziva.

"Do you speak English," Ziva said.

"_Noi quo satana esparoli_," the man cooly replied. "_Duont qeva harmonidini svato myxvimino._"

"Pig Latin, pal?" Gibbs said, standing within two feet of the man, as four agents readied their pistols.

"Of course I _speak_ English, fool," the man suddenly said, then sneered. "I assume that's what they call it here, too."

"Here, too?" Gibbs replied. "What does that _mean_?"

"Are you a Marine?" the man asked Gibbs. "You carry yourself like one. Like one of the old-style American marines, before the real lord took his rightful place as ruler of the world...the one I'm from, anyway."

Gibbs refused to answer.

"_You're_ a _Marine_," the man answered. "Don't _worry_, you don't have to _answer_ me if you don't _want_ to. It's _okay_ if you're _scared_, a little. I can be _frightening_. So can my _wife_. My brother's almost as bad, though you _killed_ him, but that's okay, because he's below in paradise."

"Below...in..._paradise_?" Gibbs said.

"Go ahead, sit _down_," the man said, nodding towards the lone chair in the corner. "I'm not going to _kill_ you - oh, I _could_ if I wanted, you're right to _restrain_ me - but you've piqued my curiosity."

Gibbs continued to stand. He nodded to Ziva.

"You have said some..._interesting_ things," she said to the man, who looked at her with a mixture of contempt, curiosity and intrigue. "Paradise below. Your world. Old-style American marines. And your true lord. Not to mention, that..._thing_ on your forehead."

"Israeli?" he asked Ziva, who refused to answer him. So he answered himself.

"You _ARE_ Israeli...the national _enemy_ of our risen lord and master. And not just any Israeli...Mossad? You have that look about you."

Gibbs gave Ziva a 'not a word' look; both she and Gibbs remained silent.

"I _know_...you _ARE_ Mossad...but what about the _rest_ of you? I take it this is Washington, D.C.; the pictures don't do it justice. Of course, where I'm from, we don't HAVE a Washington, D.C. anymore. Not that we need the Constitution...or the U.S. government...or even the Redskins, where I'm from. Not when god is all we need. _Alllllllll IIIIIIIII neeeeeeddddd..._"

Then, the man began singing and chanting in a strange language unlike anything anyone else had ever heard before.

Though two of the surrounding Christian agents wanted sorely to pray to _their_ Lord out loud - as they would later tell Gibbs and Vance - they maintained their composure.

The man alternated between singing, chanting, shouting and gurgling.

On the other side of the window, Tony DiNozzo burst in to the room where Vance was observing.

"Director," Tony said, "Crazy Jane's.._restrained_, for the moment."

"For the _moment_?" Vance replied.

"She _woke_ up," Tony answered. "She rose up, broke her restraints - Ducky must not have tied them securely enough - then looked around, started into this weird chant, and spoke in English. Told us she knew who we were."

"Go on," Vance said.

"Then one of the other agents - Lawanda, the Baptist preacher's daughter - started shouting in tongues, and Crazy Jane shouted back in some language I've never heard, and Lawanda started singing some old Amy Grant song-"

"Mr. DiNozzo," Vance interrupted, with urgency. "Sit rep. _Right now_."

"Jackson sedated her," Tony replied. "Marines arrived down there right as she put the needle in the ol' arm, Crazy Jane went back to sleep, and this time the Jarheads tied her down tight, fully strapped to the ol' slab...how's Mad Max?"

"Unlike anyone I've ever seen before in my _life_, DiNozzo," Vance replied.

Gibbs and Ziva looked at 'Mad Max', as Tony called the man, who alternated between glaring and winking at them both.

Then the mark on his forehead began to glow, a dark bright red; that caused one of the agents to begin softly humming _The Old Rugged Cross_.

Which set the guy off.

He unleashed a storm of profanities, in English and his other language, and for a moment seemed to be about to burst his restraints.

Ziva and Gibbs and the other agents kept their composure.

Tony, on the other hand, wet himself.

"_Get Marines in there. Now_!" Vance ordered, and moments later four Marines burst through the door and aimed their weapons right at the man's skull. Mad Max stopped his rant.

"Le tul satanico advril," he said, calmly.

"Marine," he said to Gibbs, "and Mossad," he said to Ziva. "I bet you want to know where I came from and how I _got_ here."

"That would be a good place to _start_," Gibbs replied.

"I bet you'd also like to know why we tried to _kill_ you and your people earlier today."

"We'll get to _that_," Gibbs said. "Tell me about yourself. Your world. Your god."

"Very well," the man replied. "Long story short: Russia and Syria led an invasion of Israel. It failed, because the enemy of the true lord of my world was with the Israelis - you should be proud, Mossad - but that led to the true lord rising out of the proverbial sea of humanity to takehis rightful place as its master.

"He turned one hundred and eighty nations into _ten_. He brought together the world as _one_, took control of everything, and I mean _everything_, and gave us the mark of loyalty...pretty easy to take it when you have to have it to eat, you know? And yet...we don't have to worry about...credit cards and keychains anymore."

"Keychains?" Gibbs.

"You thought I was going to say _checks_ and _money orders_, huh, Marine?" the man replied, chuckling, then laughing. "This place is a lot _better_ than I thought it _ever_ would be...anyway. Back to my story. Most people took the mark of loyalty, and I tell you what, it's better than getting drunk, high _AND_ laid...at least that's what I _tell_ myself. You know, those damned little beasts with their stingers...that wasn't a walk in the park, you know?"

"No I don't," Gibbs replied. "Tell me about those who don't take your mark."

"Not _mine_, Marine, _his_, the lord's," the man said. "Those who didn't take it..._OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!_" he said jubilantly, and with the biggest, creepiest grin Gibbs and Ziva had every seen.

"Sheesh," Tony said to Vance behind the glass. "Kyle Boone wasn't that _crazy_. Jack Nicholson in _The Shining_ wasn't that _creepy_."

"And when I say off with their heads, I mean _literally_," the man continued. "_Guillotine_. Huge TV _ratings_. Better than _porn_. Even New York FC vs. Barca. You guys have _soccer_ here?...you _do_?...oh, you guys are going to hate Barca now aren't you? Messi play for them here? Or did he get his head chopped off like he did where I'm from?"

Gibbs motioned to Ziva to follow him out the door, then told the lead Marine to 'watch the bastard'.

"That's _not_ a very Christian thing to say, _Marine_," the man yelled as Gibbs and Ziva walked out into the hallway, where Vance and Tony met them.

Gibbs was too preoccupied to notice the stain on Tony's trousers from earlier; Ziva was not.

"Mad Max has that effect on people," Tony told her.

"What do you make of him?" Vance asked Gibbs, and Ziva. "You didn't say a helluva lot in there...Marine."

"Didn't have to...Director," Gibbs replied. "He had plenty to say on his own."

"Question is what we _do_ with him - and the woman downstairs," Vance said. "I can't possibly believe they're from some other 'world'."

"You are not going to call SecNav?" Ziva asked Vance.

"No reason to," Vance answered. "The most logical thing is to assume he's crazier than a loon-"

"_Director_!"

Tim McGee ran towards the foursome, slightly out of breath. "Director...SecNav is trying to reach you...called Gibbs's phone-"

"Whoa, McBreathless," Tony interjected. "Take a McBreath or two-"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "_Not now_!...McGee!"

"Boss...Director...SecNav says he wants you on the phone...says it's a homeland security issue related to who's in there...SecDef is aware, even the President."

"SecNav, SecDef, the White House?" Vance.

"Yes sir, and he wants to talk to you now," McGee said.

Vance sprinted down the hallway towards his office; Gibbs turned to follow him, but not before issuing orders to his agents.

"McGee," he said, "find out everything about that mark you possibly can. Ziva, stay here with this...lunatic, and tell me the moment something changes. And DiNozzo...check in on everybody, including Abby - and change your _pants_."


	2. Chapter 2

As Gibbs followed Vance into his office, Tony began walking towards the stairs; Ziva grabbed his forearm to stop him. McGee - expecting Tony to walk back with him to the bullpen - stopped, instead, turned around, and walked back to Tony and Ziva.

"Tony, are you alright?" Ziva asked him.

"I'm fine-"

"No you are not!" Ziva replied, pointing to his crotch. "I have never seen that kind of...reaction...from you. Ever."

"What happened in there, Tony?" McGee asked. "Ziva's right. This is totally unlike you."

At the moment, Tony didn't have any kind of answer to give. His mind was spinning - not just from what he saw from the observation room, and in autopsy, but from what happened early that morning.

Gibbs ordered his agents to grab their gear not five minutes after they arrived for work earlier that morning. The dead Navy lieutenant wasn't that far away, and it seemed at first like another run of the mill case.

Then, McGee found a deceased, shirtless male, 50 yards from the lieutenant, with blood on his hands and torso, his neck broken - and a strange mark on his forehead.

Tony remembered Ducky and McGee looking at the John Doe, while Gibbs and Palmer examined the dead officer. Tony began looking around - something felt very odd about the environment, and Ziva walked towards him, asking what he was doing.

As he was telling Ziva something was off, he remembered Ziva's expression abruptly changed, then seeing her pull out her weapon and yelling to someone behind him to 'STOP.'

Tony turned around - and saw a tall, athletic, muscular woman with the same marking on her forehead charging at him. Murder in her eyes.

He didn't back down, although whatever possessed her suddenly frightened him unlike anything he had ever seen in his life.

Tony ducked Crazy Jane's mad punch and landed his own punch to her abdomen, momentarily stunning her.

Gibbs was calling for backup and ordering McGee to stick next to Ducky, even as he ran to assist Tony; Ziva had traded blows with Mad Max not far away.

Crazy Jane threw another punch, that barely grazed Tony's jaw only because she had telegraphed it; still, he felt the 'graze', which knocked him off balance. As he jumped back up, Tony noticed Crazy Jane tossing Gibbs off her back like a sack of potatoes.

Gibbs landed just right, and wasn't hurt; Ziva was kicking Mad Max in the head, which that seemed to stun him.

Tony followed Ziva's lead, and put all of his weight into a single punch to the mark on Crazy Jane's forehead.

It worked - for the moment.

She went down, but he had no idea for how long; Gibbs anticipated the same, and yelled for Palmer to get some sedative from the van.

It seemed like an eternity, given the psychos he and McGee, and Gibbs and Ziva were holding down were beginning to stir. But in reality Tony had never seen Palmer move so fast in his life.

Not fast enough, though, to keep Crazy Jane from briefly breaking Tony and McGee's grip, briefly running towards the van, then turning around and looking to charge McGee.

McGee responded like a pro, calmly whipping out his pistol and shooting the woman in the arm. Her reflexes were faster than perhaps any suspect or perp Tony had seen - the bullet grazed her arm instead of penetrating bone.

It was enough to stun her - which, in turn gave Tony enough time to land another punch to the forehead, which seemed to be her weak spot.

Crazy Jane fell backwards, out for the count, long enough for Palmer to pump her full of sedative, while Ducky did the same to Mad Max.

The ride back to the Navy Yard was silent, save for Gibbs barking orders to each team member, his way of keeping their heads on the case.

All three were dealing with the situation in their own way. Tony tried to focus on the case, but every so often he'd momentarily get distracted; Mad Max's eyes. Crazy Jane's eyes.

"Their _eyes_," Tony said to Ziva and McGee in the hallway. "_His_ eyes."

"His _eyes_?" Ziva replied.

"I saw her eyes, Ziva, McGee...the devil himself was in them. Same look from Mad Max, too. I've seen some monsters since joining NCIS, even back all the way to Peoria," Tony said, quietly. "If there's a devil...he's living in _both_ of those lunatics."

"Tony, did he _do_ something to you in there? Weren't you in observation with Vance?" McGee asked him.

"Not to _me_. How he _reacted_. One of the new agents started to hum _The Old Rugged Cross_; guess she had enough of the guy's chanting and raving. I saw him - I thought the whacko was going to break his chains and come right through the window. I could swear he was looking right at me...next thing you know I'm walking out behind Vance, notice a draft, and Ziva looking at me funny-"

"Tony," Ziva said - gently placing her hand on Tony's cheek - "I understand. I was _in_ the room with the lunatic-"

"You didn't piss yourself-"

"Tony. He freaked you out," McGee interjected. "We're all freaked out by that guy, and the woman downstairs. But you're not going to let that get to you."

"We are not going to let them get to us," Ziva replied. "We are NCIS agents. Part of our mission is to keep lunatics such as these off the streets."

"You're both right," Tony said. "We're going to keep these bastards off the street and find out if there are any more like them...I'll be fine."

Tony and McGee jogged down the stairs back to the bullpen. McGee was to look closer at the chip and mark taken from the dead John Doe's forehead, while DiNozzo was to play roving agent, going back and forth between forensics, the bullpen, 'Crazy Jane' in autopsy and 'Mad Max' upstairs.

"Tony, you want Palmer or one of the other agents to make a Target run?" McGee asked Tony, as they arrived back at their respective desks.

"Good idea," Tony replied. "I really need to stay here anyway."

"Our guest downstairs apparently made quite the impression on you, Anthony," Ducky replied, as Palmer sat at Ziva's desk. "A bit more so than the rest of us."

"Yeah, Mad Max _up there_" - Tony pointed to interrogation - "definitely gave me something to remember him by. And apparently, he's made friends, too. He and Crazy Jane both. All the way up to the White House."

"That's what SecNav told me about," McGee said to Ducky and Palmer. "Whoever those people are, the President, Joint Chiefs, SecNav, SecDef know about them, and they're sufficiently concerned."

"It sounds like the _Left Behind_ series," Palmer said, to the others' confusion. "_Left Behind_...it's a series of novels, set in the near future. Biblical prophecy. A man takes over the world, a small band of Christians form a resistance, over the next seven years the Bible prophecies come true one by one."

McGee began a search for the _Left Behind _book novels, and their authors, then the ideas forming the background of the series.

"Midway through the man - the Antichrist - makes everyone take a mark on their foreheads or their right hands," Palmer continued. "Those who take it get hit with all kinds of bad stuff-"

"Was one of them crazy beasts with stingers?" Tony asked, remembering what 'Mad Max' said in passing.

"I think so," Palmer answered. "My mom has a couple of neighbors who are active churchgoers...one of them read every book in that series."

"Twelve in all," McGee interjected, "written by Tim LaHaye, a theologian, and Jerry Jenkins, an author...the series is based on specific interpretations of the Bible - dispensationalism, premillennialism - in which it is held that certain prophecies refer to future events."

The nearby elevator dinged, and FBI agent Tobias Fornell rushed out and towards the bullpen.

"Fornell," Tony said to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Gibbs?" he asked, no one in particular.

"Upstairs with Vance, talking with SecNav," Tony said. "We have a situation."

"Which involves your team running into a couple of crazy people checking out a murdered Naval officer this morning," Fornell replied. "They're still here, right?"

"You could say that," Tony answered. "The woman's secured down in the morgue, the man's secured up in interrogation."

"Those people scare you, Tony?" Fornell replied, looking at the wet stain on the front of Tony's pants and trying to lighten the tense atmosphere in the bullpen.

"I'm not in the _mood_, Fornell," Tony snapped.

"Sorry," Fornell replied, holding up his palms. "Did the guy attack you?"

"His wife did, at the crime scene," Tony replied. "Mad Max is upstairs, in restraints; I was in _observation_ with Vance. Mad Max merely tried to break them and I swear, I thought for a moment he was going to break the window and come after me. I...lost control-"

"DiNozzo." Fornell said. "I was in an observation room a long time ago myself, not long after I joined the Bureau. Guy was a serial killer, a rapist and a child molester. No way he could have touched me. He was bound tight, and there were enough agents with him to put a bullet through his head. The guy looked at me, craziest, most evil look I've ever seen. I crapped my pants."

Tony looked at Fornell, embarassed now to have let down his guard like that in front of the Director, his fellow agents, as well as Gibbs, Ducky, Palmer and now, Fornell.

"It happens sometimes, to the best of us," Fornell said, as he turned to go up the stairs. "People like you. Shake it off."

"Tony," Palmer said, "I have an extra pair of pants downstairs, under my desk...Breana took me shopping and got me the wrong size. I was going to take them back. I think they'd fit you."

"Where Crazy Jane is," Tony mused. "Thanks Palmer. Did Breana buy you a wrong pair of underwear, too?"

"Sorry."

"Crap," Tony muttered. "Jimmy, I'm going to send you on a run to Target-"

Tony's phone rang; Gibbs was on the other line, asking him to check in on Abby.

"Boss wants me to check on Abs," Tony said.

"Tony, I can do that-" McGee.

"Sorry, Tim. Boss wants you to keep working on the Mark of the Beast, his brother, whatever that guy was," Tony said. "Palmer. I'll compensate you for the pants...looks like I'm going commando for the rest of the day."

Tony turned back to McGee, Palmer and Ducky before he stepped into the back elevator.

"Wish me luck as I go to fetch Jimmy's spare pair of pants from the bowels of the beast...or the wife of the beast...Tim. If I don't make it, my last will and testament is in the safe at my bank and I want you to read my eulogy-"

"_Tony_," Tim said. "You're not going to _die_. Go down there, get those pants, change in the restroom, and get back here."

"...alright McGibbs!" Tony said, as he ran to the back elevator, putting both hands over his crotch.

Downstairs in autopsy, Crazy Jane was still under guard, by four Marines and four agents. Tony showed his badge, smiled, and ran to Palmer's desk, finding the pants in a shopping bag.

"_Marshall's_? Really?" Tony said, looking at the tag still on the trousers, as he hugged the back wall leading to the exit. "Beggars can't be choosers, right guys?...hey, keep Crazy Jane tied down. She probably likes it-"

Crazy Jane then rose, broke her shackles and flew off her gurney.

She went after the Marines, first, knocking all four out in quick succession - one of them had his head nearly kicked off his shoulders.

"DORNEGET! SAMPLES! COBB! DELACRUZ!" Tony yelled. "GET ON THE ELEVATOR!"

The agents followed suit, shooting at Crazy Jane and stopping her momentarily; all four agents stepped into the elevator, while Tony stayed behind to guard their escape.

"Get help!" Tony said to Dorneget, as the elevator closed.

Tony, weapon drawn, slowly stepped into autopsy. He felt for pulses of all four Marines; two, including the one kicked so savagely in his head, were dead. The other two were alive, if barely.

"Like something out of the Matrix - sped up" Tony mused about what he had just seen Crazy Jane pull off.

She was stirring, as Tony heard the familiar - and welcomed - ding of the elevator.

Thank God Dorneget sent it back down, he thought; Tony turned, and saw it empty. As he backed into the elevator, Tony dropped the pants on the floor and called Abby Sciuto on his phone.

"Abs!" Tony yelled, as he saw Crazy Jane rise, gunshot wounds in her breast, shoulder and thigh.

_"Tony?"_

"Abs - lock forensics down now." Tony hit the button for the third floor, as Crazy Jane made a mad rush for the elevator.

"Tony? What's going on-"

_"Abs. DO IT-"_

Crazy Jane flew through the elevator doors as they were closing, pushed them open with her hands, and grabbed DiNozzo by his neck, throwing him against the back wall.

"NOVO SURTEMTIM DES CARTOS BELEVIUM!", she screamed in his face, as the elevator began its ascent.

Tony wondered if he had wet himself again.

"NOVO SURTEMTIM DES CARTOS! BELEVIUM!"

But this crazy bitch wasn't going to get the best of him.

He reached for his gun, but before he could get to it she grabbed it and threw it back behind them.

As Crazy Jane and her bad breath dominated his field of vision - and his sense of smell - Tony thought back to the time he laid, sick, in bed, near death after opening that envelope, a week before Kate died.

And the time when he and the rest of the team was on that boat, and Tony was convinced he caught hemorrhagic disease.

And watching his car explode after getting made by Rene Benoit.

And shooting Michael Rivkin.

And getting shot by that impostor FBI agent.

"BELEVIUM! BELEVIUM!" Crazy Jane snapped him out of Bad Memory Lane, shouting in his face, holding him up by his neck.

"AMERICAN," she shouted. "WHERE IS YOUR MARK?"

"_What_ mark!" he screamed back. "That stupid ass thing on your forehead?"

_If this is it,_ he thought, _I'm going out a fighter._

Crazy Jane grabbed him by the back of his head, looked it over, then grabbed his right hand.

"YOU DO NOT HAVE THE MARK OF LOYALTY!" she screamed, as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. "INFIDEL-INFIDEL-"

"What's going on over there," a passerby remarked, before seeing the barely clothed woman in the elevator doorway. "Ohmigod..."

The passerby dropped her folders, started running and screamed "RUN!"

Palmer saw the scene; "Ducky! McGee!" he shouted, as Crazy Jane went back and forth between the elevator doors and DiNozzo, before chopping Tony in his stomach, causing him to double over in pain.

"Lady," Tony said, trying to reach for his gun, "I saw that movie you were in as a kid."

"MOVIE?" she screamed, gragging DiNozzo and throwing him to the back of the elevator, then hitting the button for the second floor. Dorneget rushed the elevator to try to knock her off balance, only to find himself grabbed by the neck and thrown right into an onrushing McGee.

The elevator closed, going to the second floor.

"You wanna TALK lady or you wanna kill me?" Tony said, as Crazy Jane cornered him in the back of the elevator.

"I saw you in some really bad B-movie years ago," he told her, smiling. "My dad had somewhere to go and wanted me to be out of the way, so he put me at some church. Not Catholic. Protestant. TV preachers, tent revivals. They showed this movie, named Rise of the Beast."

The elevator reached the second floor. As the door opened - and Tony kept talking, to throw Crazy Jane off whatever mental balance she had - he noticed Abby looking wide-eyed through the glass door, then yelling into her cell phone for McGee and Gibbs.

"Anyway, I had to endure that cinematic masterpiece and, I tell you, I'm surprised it didn't drive me to despise the silver screen for life," Tony continued, as Jane growled in his face. "It was made in the 1970s, everyone had those stupid hairdos, wearing polyester, a real period piece. You know, I thought them stamping the UPC symbol on everyone's head was creepy, but that thing on your head? Now that's creepy."

She grabbed DiNozzo by his neck; "WHERE IS _YOUR_ MARK!...WHERE IS _YOUR_ MARK, INFIDEL?" she screamed, as the elevators opened back to the third floor.

This time, McGee, Dorneget and Gibbs had their weapons drawn.

"Let him GO!" Gibbs yelled, making his way to the elevator as quietly as he could before the doors shut again.

"DOGSIEH NATAS! DOGSIEH NATAS!" she screamed. "WHERE IS YOUR MARK! WHERE ARE WE! WHY SHOULD I NOT PUT YOU TO DEATH RIGHT NOW!"

"I'm _Catholic_, Crazy Jane," Tony smirked. "I don't worship the devil or Black Oak Arkansas or Nicolae Carpathia or whatever looney you've hitched your wagon to-"

"_ENOUGH_!" Crazy Jane yelled, as she grabbed Tony by his neck and began to squeeze, tight.

"PUT HIM DOWN, NOW!" Gibbs yelled, the barrel of his gun now nestled against her temple.

"Let him go or I WILL shoot you!" Gibbs said, coldly.

"Nosorum geh vee quesh qua va morsohesti," Crazy Jane said, glancing at Gibbs, with a demonic look in her eyes. She then looked back to DiNozzo.

"This is your last warning," Gibbs said.

"Dogsieh natas...dogsieh natas...dogsieh natas-DOGSIEH NATAS-TAKE THE MARK TAKE THE MARK TAKE THE MARK-"

Crazy Jane grabbed Tony by his neck and threw him upwards.

And Gibbs shot.

Three times, all to the skull.

Tony fell to the ground, at the back wall of the elevator.

Crazy Jane died instantly, her corpse falling in the elevator doorway.

Gibbs rushed in to attend to Tony, trailed by Ducky, McGee and Palmer.

"Tony. You okay?" Gibbs asked, as he stepped over Crazy Jane's body.

"Boss..." Tony said, deliriously, "..that was the most intense B-movie I've ever _been _in."


	3. Chapter 3

Ducky looked over Tony, who was dazed from his ordeal, and ordered that he "be sent to the hospital immediately" for observation.

With an ambulance enroute to pick up Tony, and as Palmer and McGee placed Crazy Jane's body on a stretcher to be taken to the emergency morgue/autopsy area, Vance and Fornell looked at the video feed from the interrogation room in Vance's office.

The mysterious and frightening John Doe - or, as Tony nicknamed him, 'Mad Max' - looked eerily calm on the feed, even with a dozen Marines now surrounding him, weapons drawn, ready to shoot on sight.

"Lucky 13," Mad Max said, too cheerfully for the tastes of the two men watching from afar. "Of course, I know another number, a much better one...Six..."

Mad Max's eyes turned a flaming red, his face a deep burgundy.

"...SIX..."

He struggled to move the chair he was strapped into, then tried to break the straps and chains holding him there.

"..._SIX_."

Mad Max settled for chanting.

"SIX SIX _SIX_-SIX SIX _SIX_-SIX SIX _SIX_-SIX SIX _SIX_-"

The Marines did not move an inch, nor did they flinch at his actions.

"WHERE IS THE _MARINE_?" Mad Max yelled. "Oh f***ing _hell_, where's my _WIFE_?"

Vance turned down the volume - Ziva was in the observation room, and she would get them if necessary - as Gibbs walked in.

"How's DiNozzo?" Vance asked.

"They're taking him to County General," Gibbs replied. "Ducky thinks it's serious enough to have Tony looked at, and kept overnight."

"How serious?" Vance.

"Ducky thinks he'll be alright, but not if doesn't get to the hospital," Gibbs said.

"And the woman's dead, Gibbs," Vance said. "You did what you had to. I would have done the same thing. Normally, I'd take you off the case at this point; but that lunatic in there seems to want to talk to you, and seems to respond to you the best."

"You're judging that on what, Director?" Fornell said to Vance.

"My gut," Vance said back. "I know my people. Anyway, Gibbs isn't the priority here. The priority is that SecNav, SecDef, the Directors of the FBI, CIA and Homeland and the Chief of Staff to the President tell me this guy and his 'friends' are legit."

"Define 'legit', Leon," Gibbs said.

"You think they're _not_ insane?" Fornell said. "_Come on_, Vance, they're loonier than-"

"They may be insane, Agent Fornell," Vance said. "White House, Pentagon, even your own director all agree. Legit means they're not from this earth."

"Of all the things," Fornell said. "The neocons and TV preachers turn out to be right after all. Waiting to hear back from the UFO and time travel guys for confirmation? Art Bell advising you on this?"

"Tobias-" Gibbs attempted to interject, but Fornell kept on.

"Let's check in with Pat Robertson," he continued. "Or, better yet, check with every single mental health facility along the east coast, starting with the Washington area-"

"That what you told your director, Tobias?" Gibbs.

"Why as a matter of fact, yes," Fornell replied.

"How did he reply?" Vance.

"Just like you," Fornell replied to Vance. "Did SecNav tell you anything more than my director told me? That nobody knows the how or why but that these whackjobs represent a threat so big we're at Defcon Two while the White House, Langley, Quantico AND the Pentagon try to keep this from leaking to the public?"

"That, and we are in effect holding a foreign national, even if he claims to be from Buffalo, New York," Vance said. "Which he isn't. Not our _own_, anyway."

"And SecNav and SecDef _want_ him, Leon?" Gibbs said.

"Want to get _rid_ of him," Vance replied, "and _trade_ him. For one of our own."

That was news to Gibbs and Fornell both.

"Hiding anything else, Leon?" Gibbs said.

"I didn't know this until SecNav told me," Vance said. "Mad Max in there is a foreign national of a country - a global country, apparently - that is now considered a hostile entity. And his government wants him - and the bodies of the woman and the brother - _back_ on their turf."

"One of our _own_," Fornell mused. "We sent people over? _Who_ in the hell sent anyone over?"

"Someone in the CIA did," Vance said, "against the judgment of its director."

"Of _course_," Fornell replied. "CIA."

"Anybody we know?" Gibbs asked.

Vance walked over to his desk and pulled a couple of photos out of a manila folder. "As a matter of fact, we _do_," he said.

The photos showed a white male, 40s, wearing an eyepatch in the first photo, and without it in the second, which showed a second-degree burn to his forehead.

"Trent Kort." Gibbs said. "Why am I not shocked that he's involved in this?"

"How in _hell_ did he get over to...wherever that lunatic in your interrogation room is from?" Fornell asked, incredulously. "And what in hell happened to his forehead in that picture?"

"Langley still isn't talking about how he got over there, and neither is the White House nor the Pentagon," Vance replied. "SecNav wouldn't budge when I pressed him for intel. Said he was under orders from the President himself to maintain secrecy."

"What about that burn mark on Kort's forehead?" Gibbs asked Vance. "That a state secret, too?"

"From what CIA was able to determine, the authorities, after detaining and torturing him, attempted to administer their mark of loyalty without his consent," Vance said. "The thing fell off - literally - seven times. On try number eight, it stuck, but instead of pulling out the chip Kort took a lighter from his interrogator and lit himself on fire."

"Holy Mother of God-the _Catholic_ God," Fornell said.

"He's got _guts_," Gibbs said. "I assume he's still alive and not in one of their own morgues?"

"For now," Vance said. "Their representative wants to make a trade. Kort for that man, and the two corpses in our morgue. 11:06 a.m., in Norfolk."

"An hour and a half," Gibbs replied. "Why Norfolk?"

"Closest city with one of their military and intelligence bases to what, they claim, they know as a radioactive crater," Vance answered.

Downstairs, Abby Sciuto's lab was being used as the emergency medical room.

Dr. Donald Mallard's office and morgue was, in effect, a crime scene. Crazy Jane - the wife of Mad Max - killed two agents and a Marine and severely injured two agents and three more Marines, before she got in the elevator with Tony.

Vance, Ducky and Gibbs all agreed that Crazy Jane would have likely killed Tony, had Gibbs not killed her after shooting her three times in the head.

Ducky was in the garage, using it as a temporary examiner's room; he and Palmer were examining Crazy Jane's corpse at present.

McGee and Dorneget, having investigated and photographed the elevator, were now doing the same in Ducky's morgue. Assistant Director Jerome Craig, having returned from Europe, was overseeing them on behalf of Vance.

Abby was given authorization by Gibbs to follow the ambulance transporting Tony to the hospital and was calling McGee with status updates every five minutes.

Upstairs, Ziva watched Mad Max alternate between praise for his god, chanting and screaming, sometimes in English, sometimes in that weird language that she still hadn't figured out.

"_MOSSAD_!"

Mad Max stopped chanting, and screamed his pet name for Ziva.

"_MOSSAD_! I WANT THE MARINE...I have _something_ to tell him."

Under orders from Vance not to engage the man, Ziva walked out of the observation room, down the hall to Vance's office, and entered without knocking.

"Director; Gibbs," Ziva said. "Agent Fornell...the man is asking for _you_, Gibbs."

All four went back to the observation room. Instead of waiting for Vance's go-ahead, however, Gibbs turned around and left.

He walked into the interrogation room, moments later; he walked over to the corner, pulled over a chair three feet in front of the man, then sat in it.

Mad Max, still restrained, sat at attention when Gibbs walked into interrogation.

All twelve of the Marines in the room had their weapons aimed at Max's skull, ready to pull the trigger at a moment's notice.

Gibbs leaned back, slightly, cross-legged, and took the measure of the maniac before him; in turn, the maniac took the measure of Gibbs.

"I have _respect_ for you, Marine," Max said. "We had wondered how local law enforcement would _approach_ us - guns blazing, running for the hills...soiled crotches...you stood your ground. And your people followed suit. _Very_ impressive."

In the observation room, Vance and Ziva watched.

"Well, Marine, aren't you going to ask me _any _questions?" Max asked, with an air of curiosity, even as he seemed to be more and more uncomfortable. "Anything at _all_? Like _why_ we killed your Navy Lieutenant?"

Gibbs responded with silence, and a smirk.

"_Why_ is he not asking this guy any questions," Vance muttered.

"Perhaps he believes the man will speak freely soon enough," offered Ziva, who stood next to Vance.

Which was exactly what Gibbs expected.

"Wrong _place_, wrong _time_, Marine," Max stated, without any remorse. "If it had been some homeless guy we may have let him go...or killed him _anyway_. Nobody would have missed him, if I remember my past America right. Back home, everyone has a place to live. Between all the deaths and executions, plenty of houses to choose from; hell on the housing market, but the true Lord is all anybody cares about."

"Lieutenant Daniel Gonzalez." Gibbs replied, with the name of the dead officer, no emotion in his voice - although Max could see it in his eyes.

"I _know_," Max replied, nonchalantly. "We looked at his wallet...dontcha wanna know _why_, Marine, we _killed _the f****r?"

"Lieutenant Daniel Gonzalez. United States Navy. Assigned to the Pentagon. A wife, a son and a daughter, a third child on the way," Gibbs said, his eyes showing his anger and rage. "He walked that trail every day after leaving home, before going to work. Wanted nothing more than to serve his country, and his fellow man, and most of all love and provide for his wife and children."

"_Awwww_," Max said, sarcastically, then chuckled. "So friggin' _what_-"

Gibbs lept out of his chair and got right in Max's face.

"You KILL a man in cold blood and ALL you have to say is SO FRIGGIN' WHAT?" Gibbs screamed. "I've heard enough of your nonsense. You're going back where you came from, but not until you EXPLAIN to me WHY you MURDERED that man, that Naval officer, that husband and father."

Gibbs kept his face right in Max's face; the lunatic blew him a kiss in response.

"_Finally_," Max said, "I get a response from the Marine. If my hands weren't tied up and I wasn't bolted to this chair I'd give you a _standing_ _ovation_ - then kill you _myself_."

"Tell me why you _murdered_ that man," Gibbs said.

"Sure," Max said, dismissively, then told a tale of how he, his wife and his 'idiot' brother were 'dumped' in the middle of radioactive wasteland where Anacondia 'was'. The three made their way, and en route to encountering Lt. Gonzalez, robbed a store and killed a janitor.

"'Daddy' was in the wrong place, wrong time," Max said. "He saw the blood on Tommy's hands and Jasey's shirt, and asked one too many questions. So we killed him, and left him there. Then Tommy - the idiot - got cold feet. We should have killed the bitch who found the body, but Tommy was scared so we stayed, hidden behind the bushes."

"Tommy your brother?" Gibbs.

"Yep," Max said. "Wanna know how _he_ died?...wanna? You _sure_?...you friggin' sure MARINE?..._okay_. Jasey and I _broke his goddamned neck_ for whining too f*****g much."

Max grinned; Gibbs swore he saw the devil in the man's eyes.

Still, Gibbs wasn't going to let this bastard get the better of him.

"When you and your people got there, I was surprised," Max said. "I expected Washington city police, or maybe the FBI. I forgot there was an 'NCIS'."

"Why did you attack us?" Gibbs said.

"Why do you _think_?" Max replied, his dismissive demeanor gone, replaced with a killer's cold, dark glare. "You were in the damn way."

"The way of _what_? _Why_ are you here?"

"Why?...because we value our own lives. And we serve the risen lord. And to say no to his demands means death - OUR deaths," Max replied, coldly. "We're civilians. I've done everything from flip burgers to take high school basketball scores for the local newspaper to fix air conditioning units. And now, spy work."

"What are you here for?" Gibbs asked, as he leaned forward again, right in the man's face.

"Observation," Max replied. "And to travel to a place called Langley."

Langley, Virginia, where the headquarters for the Central Intelligence Agency is located.

"What did your superior want you to do in Langley?" Gibbs said.

"Find out why in _hell_ your CIA sent someone over to his world," Max answered. "The world he owns, lock stock and barrel, no matter what his infernal enemy claims."

"Your superior is your control officer?" Gibbs asked.

"My - _our_ - orders were given to us by the risen lord and king and master himself. No go-betweens," Max replied. "And now we're dead, and going to the pearly hell, to be tortured by our lord's enemy forever and ever."

"So," Gibbs said, arms crossed, standing up three feet from Mad Max. "You killed a Naval officer, just because he was in your _way_? And you confess to going on a mission to spy on a federal agency, because it allegedly sent someone over to your world?"

"Trent. Allan. Kort," Mad Max spit out. "The bastard's name. Damn mark wouldn't take; we kept applying it and applying it and applying it and it fell off, like when it was 200 degrees everywhere and the damn butter melted before you got it out of the fridge-"

"What did you _do_ with Kort?" Gibbs said, firmly. "Is he _alive_? Did you _kill_ him?"

"_F*** no_ we didn't kill him," Max said, through clenched teeth. "We kept him alive - a few of us tried to kill him but our shooters had piss-poor aim or the damn blade on the knife broke in half or went dull-"

"How do you _know_ so much about Agent Kort?" Gibbs interjected, right back in the man's face.

"How do _you_ know so much about him..._Marine_?" Max answered, smirking, head cocked.

"_Answer my question!_" Gibbs yelled.

"_Okay_," Max answered, with a creepy smile. "Only because it _suits_ me...I know 'so much' about Kort because I was his _interrogator_."

Gibbs stood back, and looked backwards briefly at the two-way window behind him, towards Vance and Ziva.

"His interrogator?" Gibbs asked. "Who in hell _are_ you?"

"His _interrogator_," Max said, with a smile. "I aim to please - please my _lord_, anyway, which is _all_ I care about. I was _told_ to interrogate him - hey, when the enemy's killing off your people, gotta find _somebody_ to fill important jobs, and that's how I went from repairing air conditioners to being an intelligence agent."

Vance walked in at that point; Gibbs walked to him, as did the lead Marine, to stop him from going any further.

"I've _got_ this," Gibbs said to Vance.

"_Not_ a good idea, sir," the lead Marine said.

"I can handle myself just fine, gentlemen," Vance said. "Now let me through."

Vance walked past Gibbs and the Marine, up to Max himself, as Ziva entered - her pistol in her hand, live, ready to fire it instantly.

"I _know_ you," Max said in a sing-song voice. "They chopped you and your kiddies' heads off. Wouldn't give up your wife, according to the news."

Vance winced, briefly, at the mention of Jackie, Kayla and Jared.

"How _IS_ Jackie, by the way?" Max said, with a wink. "She smarten up and take his mark? Or did they _torture_ her to death-"

"_Sir_," Vance said, loudly, in a firm, no-nonsense tone. "_Where is Agent Kort_?"

"Over _there_," Max said. "Back _home_."

"You mention you _tried_ to apply your mark to him," Vance continued. "Tried to, that it didn't take. _Explain_ that to me."

Max stayed silent for several moments, then smiled.

"Okay," he told Vance, still smiling. "We tried and tried to apply it. Kept falling off. Like a slice of pepperoni off a wall. Finally, it seemed to take - but the bastard could have pulled the mark out; when you apply the mark to a loyalist - like myself - it molds into your skin, becomes part of the body."

"What _effect_ did it have on him?" Gibbs asked.

"The...'_effect_'...Marine...was that it laid on his head like pepperoni," Max said. "He could have pulled it off. Instead...the son of a bitch took the candle we used to burn his fingertips, ear and b****, and_ lit his damn forehead on fire_!"

Vance showed no emotion; Gibbs slightly raised his eyebrows.

"_Lit_ his _forehead_?" Vance asked.

"Damndest thing," Max answered. "Stupid, dumb, but impressive. Not even those who rejected the mark tried to burn it off. Even the lord himself was impressed."

Vance, at this point, had heard enough.

"As much as I'd like to keep you here and _try_ you for your crimes - the murders of both Lieutenant Gonzalez and Arthur Williams, the janitor your wife killed during your robbery - instead, you get to go _back_ to wherever you call home," Vance said.

Mad Max's response was to fake a poker face; Vance, Gibbs and Ziva noted a measure of fear in his eyes.

"You get to go back home...scot-free," Gibbs said.

Max said nothing.

"Major, get our prisoner ready and take him to the exchange point," Vance said to the lead Marine.

**Norfolk, Virginia**

The exchange point was Norfolk, and thanks to the use of a Marine helicopter, Mad Max and his Marine guards arrived there ten minutes early.

Gibbs noted the specific location: a rooftop.

The same rooftop, and close to the same spot, where Kate Todd had been murdered several years before. That did not go unnoticed by Vance and Fornell, either.

"You _okay_, Gibbs?" Vance asked him, as they disembarked from a second Marine helicopter.

"Let's get this bastard back to his people and get Kort back here," Gibbs replied.

Waiting for them were Mad Max; the Marines assigned to guard him; Fornell, representing the FBI; and several agents from the CIA.

"What are we looking for, Tobias?" Gibbs asked Fornell. "Who's going to make the exchange? Who's going to bring Kort?"

"They're supposed to ... appear," Fornell answered. "Like something out of a movie...Jethro. This is where she _died_, isn't it."

Gibbs didn't reply.

"Any connection at all, to that incident?" Vance asked Fornell.

"I don't think there is one; neither does CIA," Fornell replied. "They - whomever they are - should appear any moment. It's 11:06."

Fornell pointed to his wristwatch. 11:06 a.m., local time - the 666th minute of the day.

A moment later, a dark, reddish light appeared ten yards from Mad Max and the Marines; four men and two women stepped out, all dressed in black suits, white shirts, black ties, all having marks of loyalty on their foreheads.

"Recognize any of them, Tobias?"

"Nope. Anyone familiar to you, Gibbs?"

"No...where's Kort?"

"Where in hell _is_ Kort?" Vance mused.

More dark, reddish lights shone around them moments later; two dozen Marine-type men, all armed, followed suit.

Gibbs, Vance, Fornell, CIA and the Marines found themselves surrounded by armed men from whatever other world Mad Max and the Agents in Black were from; Gibbs noted another bright light, with four armed men escorting Kort.

"_Let's do this_," Mad Max said, then pointed towards Gibbs. "Me for _him_...and make sure Kort gets to the Marine."

"He's _ours_," the lead CIA agent replied. "_Kort_ comes to-"

"YOU _WANT_ THE F****R OR _NOT_?!" Max yelled in response. "Then you do this _OUR WAY_."

After several moments of conferring with his fellow agents, the lead CIA agent agreed.

With Marines and agents from both sides watching - and ready to shoot - the exchange was made. Max walked to the Agents in Black, while CIA agents carried the bodies of Crazy Jane and Max's brother on stretchers.

"I"m sure you have a helluva tale to _tell_, Kort," Vance said to Kort, who still had a second-degree burn on his forehead.

"Getting into _trouble_, Kort?" Gibbs asked, handing the CIA agent a new eyepatch.

"Perhaps the...strangest case I've ever been on," Kort answered, as the lead CIA agent ran to him. "Director Vance...you should have your Marines shoot them on sight-"

Then, another dark, reddish light appeared - and everyone from this world saw an opening in its wake, that the other world's people began walking through.

"It's like that Stargate TV show I saw once," Fornell mused.

"I can't wait to hear your debrief," Vance remarked to Kort.

Mad Max waved his arms, even as everyone noted the other world's soldiers - or whatever they were - weren't moving towards the opening, and still had their own weapons aimed on the Marines, and NCIS and CIA agents.

"Hey _bitches_! It's been _real_!" Max said, as he prepared to step into the opening. "We're gonna give you something to remember us by-FIRE ON MY _MARK_-"

"_DUCK_!" Gibbs heard a female voice yell, from behind his position.

A very familiar voice.

The CIA agents; Vance; Fornell; and Gibbs hit the ground, as the Marines began firing at the soldiers, who went full-blast with their own machine guns.

For the next half-minute, Gibbs heard the sound of a firefight unlike any he had been through as a civilian or an NCIS agent.

He and Kort drew their weapons, and looked up - despite Vance's orders to stay down. Kort looked towards the soldiers and began firing, while Gibbs looked backwards to see who gave the order to duck.

What he saw was a rag-tag, heavily armed, group of civilians, taking out the enemy.

In 35 seconds the firefight was over, and every casualty was from the other side. No casualties, no injuries, on Gibbs' side.

"Gibbs!" Vance said. "Are you alright?...Gibbs?..._Gibbs_?"

Gibbs ignored Vance, because he was walking back towards that rag-tag bunch of civilians.

The lead male stepped forward, and he looked vaguely familiar to Gibbs.

The women next to him he absolutely knew; one he swore he left behind at the Navy Yard. Gibbs moved to approach them, but the lead male intercepted him.

"Sir. My name is Timothy Kerry. Former United States Marine Corps, currently Commander of the Resistance to the Global Regime," he said to Gibbs and to Vance and Fornell, who had quickly jogged to Gibbs' side.

"Timothy...Major Kerry?" Gibbs said, looking at the women next to him.

"Formerly Major-" Kerry replied, but Gibbs ignored him.

"_Kate_?"

The woman next to Kerry was an older, spitting-image of Kate Todd. The other woman, to her left, was Ziva David.

"Kate?" Gibbs said, as she recognized him.

"Tim...honey...it's _Gibbs_-"

"No. Not the one _we_ knew."

Gibbs turned his attention to the other woman.

"_Ziva_! I ordered you to _stay_ back at the Navy Yard-"

"The woman you are referring to," she replied, "is not me. I am part of the resistance. Ziva David, formerly an Officer of the Mossad Agency of the State of Israel, not working with the Resistance as a Lieutenant."

She stuck out her hand for Gibbs to shake; Gibbs, and Vance, and Fornell, replied in kind.

"If you don't mind my asking," Vance said to the woman who looked like Kate after introducing himself, "who are _you_?"

"Lieutenant Kate Kerry," she replied. "Former Secret Service agent assigned to protect the President of the United States of America, then an NCIS Special Agent, assigned to work for a man who looked like and had the same name as Agent Gibbs. I worked for the North American Hegemony Naval Intelligence briefly, before I was found out. I joined the resistance, met my former boyfriend, and married him."

"Kate," Gibbs said. "You..._you died_ on this rooftop."

"_I_ _almost _died," she said. "You - I mean, he - kept me down because you - he - saw the sniper. Then the helicopter came, and drove Ziva's half brother away...I wondered, whatever happened to you, I mean the other Gibbs, after satan took over-"

"Satan?" Vance interjected. "Is...is this 'satan' the 'dark lord' that guy was ranting about?"

"The one and the same," Commander Kerry replied. "Satan isn't the guy's official name, but he's possessed by satan, so that's what we call him."

Over the next ten minutes, both parties exchanged notes and gathered more intelligence on each other's worlds - and a little on their own lives.

"I wondered what happened to you-sorry, him," Kate said of her own Gibbs. "Last I saw of Gibbs, he was going after Paloma Reynosa after the U.S. was dissolved and NCIS folded into the NorthAm Naval Intelligence."

"What about the rest of the team?" Gibbs said. "What happened to them?"

"I saw Abby die by guillotine," she told him. "The rest...either were gone when the mark was implemented or...you know I really don't want to _talk_ about that, okay?"

"That's a _very_ good idea," Cmdr. Kerry interjected. "When someone you know and love takes that thing...it's very rough on you emotionally..."

Behind them, a bright, white light appeared, and another portal with it.

"That's our ticket back home," Cmdr. Kerry said. "Everyone! Through it! Double time!"

"Yessir," the men and women under his command said, going through the portal.

"Agent Gibbs!" the other Ziva yelled, "we have read those _Left Behind_ books, too. They are rubbers!"

That remark left Fornell, Gibbs, Vance - and Kort, and the other CIA agents, and the Marines not examining the dead enemy soldiers - confused.

"'Rubbers', _Ziva_?" Gibbs yelled back.

"Come on, Lieutenant," Cmdr. Kerry said. "One day you'll get those idioms straight!"

"She meant 'rubbish', Gibbs," Kate said. "Ziva's my best friend in the world and she's right. You're wasting your time with those things...God's way bigger than evangelical Jesus junk...He's even bigger than Catholicism."

Gibbs noted the rosary hanging from Kate's neck - and was surprised by her impromptu hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Tell everyone I said hello," she said, rushing back to the portal, "and I hope I see them and all of you on the other side."

And, like that, she, Kerry, the other Ziva and their comrades were gone.

**The next day**

The next morning, Gibbs went for a walk, along the path where Lt. Gonzalez was murdered.

Gibbs and Vance decided against informing the rest of Gibbs' team about the rooftop; officially, the written version simply stated that Kort was exchanged for Mad Max.

Unofficially, of course, Gibbs had a lot to think about.

What was that other reality they had touched base with? Was it really any kind of threat?

What about his own notions of reality, changed and influenced over the years, mostly by tragedy - not just the death of his own Kate Todd, but that of his wife Shannon and daughter Kelly?

Was everything truly a product of randomness? Or was there someone - or something, at least - behind everything he saw, felt, experienced, good, bad and in between?

And what might he, or she, or it have to say to Gibbs through this...experience?

Just in case there was someone, Gibbs said a quick prayer. For his team, for Vance, for his father...and for Kate and her husband and her best friend, wherever they were.

Grateful that he had met them, and that they were there, and asking for him, her, it to watch over them - and asking that, when he drew his final breath, they would be reunited, together and with their other loved ones, on the other side.


End file.
